Denial
by Miss Peg
Summary: One-shot. What happened between Naomi and Emily's love making in the woods and the moment Emily woke up to Naomi running away? Just a little filler scene to the event in the woods.


**Author Note: One-shot, filling in the gap between Naomi and Emily getting it on by the woods and the morning when Emily wakes up to find Naomi not there, from Naomi's POV.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Skins, if I did I'd be demanding more money to make American lengthed seasons (aka about 21/22 episodes).**

The moment Emily had fallen asleep, Naomi lay silently beside her, resting on her side as she watched Emily wriggle around slightly in her sleep to get comfortable. It was a rough, dirt floor, hardly the most comfortable place to get a good nights rest. Each touch between them, each kiss was fixed firmly on the Ferris wheel that was Naomi's internal picture album. Every image spinning around at turbo speed as she tried to sleep. She was happy with how the night had turned out. She'd wanted some comfort and that was exactly what she'd got. It wasn't what she'd expected, to be the one to initiate a kiss. Nor did she expect for things to escalate into more, a lot more, than she'd ever thought she'd do with a girl. The first kiss, in middle school, she'd passed off as a teenage girl wanting to experiment, she hadn't initiated it and she hadn't wanted it. But then their kiss at Panda's party was more. Emily might have started it, but Naomi didn't say no, she didn't push her away when she went in for more after the first touch. She figured it was the mixture of alcohol and drugs in her system sending her into a mixed up alternate reality where she felt comfortable snogging the face off a girl and rolling around on a bouncy castle with her. It was so easy to blame alcohol and drugs. Part of her wanted to do the same as she watched Emily's chest rising and falling with sleep. They'd had a few drinks and they'd smoked a bit of hash, but she knew deep down that there wasn't nearly enough in her system to send her mind back into that alternate reality. It suddenly occurred to her that the alternate reality had infiltrated her reality and was lay down, sleeping, in the form of Emily Fitch.

Naomi's heart raced as she stared at Emily's sleeping form. She reached out and touched her hair, touched her cheek, resting a hand gently on the girl's shoulders, before pushing her lips against hers. Emily's body responded, lifting off the ground slightly towards her, before Naomi pulled away and the red-haired girl sunk back into sleep. She'd wanted it, she still wanted it. But the thought of saying so out loud was too much. The sun was already beginning to rise and Naomi wondered what time Emily had fallen asleep. It felt like hours since they'd been together, but it also felt like seconds. The memories were so close to the front of her mind that it was hard to think about anything else; the taste of Emily's skin still lingered on her lips, the touch of her body still felt by her tingling fingers and the smell of her body odour mixed with body spray still travelled through her senses. It was everything she had ever wanted. To feel close to someone, to be with someone so fully that nothing else mattered. But as she stared down at the red-head, who was starting to rouse from her sleep, she felt sick. She wasn't gay. She couldn't be gay. Emily moaned faintly and her face was plastered with a smile as she moved about, as though she was dreaming about something wonderful.

"Naomi," her rough voice mumbled.

Naomi shook her head, biting her lip to stop herself from crying, to stop herself from screaming out that she didn't want to feel this way. She wasn't gay. But all she could think about was Emily. As she quickly placed the rest of her clothes back on her body, she avoided looking down at the girl. But it didn't change anything. It didn't remove the images spinning around in her mind. It didn't change the fact that she would do it all again if the night was repeated. But she wasn't gay. She couldn't be. The red-head finally moved around again, signalling her waking from her slumber. Naomi slung her bag over her shoulder and picked up her bike, pushing it up towards the dirt path, where she began to walk herself away from the thoughts she didn't want to have, but that wouldn't go away.

**AN: Thanks for reading, I decided I wanted to fill in the blank, kind of like this whole lost weeks thing I keep hearing about, but this is a case of lost scene/thoughts. If you like it, you know what to do...if you don't, there's a button below this, press it and leave a comment, please! :-D**


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